Lady Noir
by Trinity Valyntine
Summary: The lives of the Knights are in danger when they embark on their final mission. Saved by the Roman Knights, Ianethe's loyalties are forsaken. Is her meddling going to put fear in their throats?
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! Here's something that's been in my head for a very long time. If this chapter seems a bit of a bore, it'll get better (that's not an idle promise!) 

Disclaimer: All my writing, plot owned by moviemakers...

_Chapter I_

_ And then there was just the dark_

Ianethe's body felt broken. It was as is every bone in her had cracked and shriveled up. Her muscles were no longer useful to her, even if she tried against the chains that held her down. Her mind and body were isolated, distant, and different by worlds apart. Her head was always racing when she had enough energy to suffice. She would think until it caused her pains so; yet her body, her body was stationary. Everything soon began to ache for her. It hurt when she was thinking, when she'd breathe. Soon she felt her healthy exhales become gasps and then low sighs of steadying her heart.

Pain beyond reckoning had caught up to her. It was fresh on her skin and deep in her blood. Ianethe could taste it in the back of her throat as they lashed her. Never had she dreamed of this fate, her captivity by the hands of her enemies. They were prosperous indeed to have detained her, commander of the opposing army. They had broken her.

Time and space removed itself from her senses. Seconds to hours to days had passed without her notice. It all blended into one sorrowful nightmare she was forced to live. Daylight was impossible to remember though it was like a fond memory she couldn't recall. It was what ordinary people would feel. So that had left her to be extraordinary. At this a pang of amusement rose and caused her to wince. Even feeling bit her back.

Through all of this, Ianethe had never quite pitied herself or more so thought of her own pain as the others. No, she couldn't bare it; the idea of them captured. Ianethe had heard their screams so long ago it made her wonder if she was dead. Her heart would swell at each scream. Were they dead? No, surely they shared the fate as her. But then again, death would be better than this, she thought.

There was one thought, one last lingering thought before she drifted into a frightening abyss. Hope that her friends, nay, her sisters were still alive and would be liberated. One day a time will come when her people will fight against her enemies where blood would be drawn in war. She mused all of this but the last few strings were so close to the edge. There was not much left of her to contemplate. The darkness around her came thicker until she went beyond the pain, beyond her self until there was…nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II-

A Little Place of Forgetting

Lancelot's eyes widened as he first entered the oubliette. The room was like a perfect blackness, darker than anything he'd seen in a long time. The smell hit his nostrils first. It was of all the putrid flesh drenched in the air like heavy perfume, crawling on his skin. The cool wave of death slipped over him as he stepped down to the ground. His gaze followed throughout the place, sweeping every grim corner. In the beginning, all seemed too dark to see as he climbed down the stairs behind Gawain. A loud chanting hovered around his ears before he saw a skeletal man walking towards them.

"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?" he hissed. Lancelot's patience snapped then.

"Out of the way!" he ordered, pushing past everyone. He entered the room, expression solemn. The horror stared back at him.

People were chained up by their wrists wearing nothing like rags into a form of a crucifix. At first sight he knew they were all dead, tortured to death. He could almost hear the screams bouncing back from the cold brick walls. He slowly turned back to Arthur.

"The work of your God?" he asked, practically demanded an answer from him. Arthur just looked at the room with the same look on his face of disbelief. "Is this how he answers your prayers?"

Arthur said nothing yet his face was grim from not exploding. Taking a breath, he turned to the other men.

"See if there's any still alive." he commanded and at once Dragonet began to course through the area.

Lancelot, with his anger was spilling out, took out his sword and cut the chains holding up a gate. Each iron gate guarded a little hole that kept a prisoner. His eyes narrowed as he crouched down for a look. The one that he had cut down held a shriveled corpse collecting dust.

One of Marius' men grabbed his arm pushing him away from the penitentiary.

"How dare you step foot in this holy place?" he snared. Lancelot's rage flared and in a flash he had his sword out. The blade struck the man, a muffled scream emitted from his mouth.

"There was a man of God!" the other elderly shrieked when his fellow fell to the ground. The knight rounded on his, "Not my god!" said he pointing his finger at him.

"This one is dead." Dragonet called, holding his nose over a hole.

"They are all dead judging by this smell." Gawain said looking menacingly at the frail old man.

"And you, you don't move or you'll join him." He said indicating to the body on the floor. The elder stepped back with prayers clearly afraid.

"Arthur!" Dragonet called once more from the corner. He pulled out a young boy whose cheeks were stained with dry tears.

"You must not fear me." He said after setting him down in his booming voice. The little boy nodded, terrified yet looking relieved altogether.

Lancelot and Arthur looked forward at more of the gates. At last the reached the end in eerie silence. Arthur bent down before him peeking through the holes of the gate to reveal a shivering girl crouching in its corner. Her eyes glistened with tears and pain flowed from them. She was wrapped up in paper thin cloths, surrounding her deathly pale skin and slash burns blistered her body. He handed Lancelot the torch and released the gate. The girl looked at them pleading almost to save her. Arthur cautiously peeled her from her prison and carried her outside hastily. Everything happened in silence, they followed him as her eyes were beetle black in the oubliette and were half closed in weakness.

Once Lancelot was outside into the clearing, the winter cold played a warmer role than the chill underground. He threw the torch to the aside with much force away from the growing crowd.

"Water! Give me some water!" Arthur screamed setting the lady on the ground. Dragonet pursued him with the little boy carried in his arms. Gawain was the last to come out, pushing the rest of the clergymen to the ground.

It was Germanous' servant that came running with a casket of water handing it to the wounded girl. Lancelot struck Excalibur into the ground with vigor and frustration striving not to rupture in dissatisfaction. He could hear the Saxon drums even now coming frightfully closer. And they were here, helping a herd of people to feast on Arthur's heroic deeds. He knew it was the right thing to do, he thought as he watched Arthur hand feed the girl water, but his anger for Arthur overruled it. She was coughing up the water as soon as it hit her throat. Dragonet gave the boy water too and he drank gratefully from the donor.

"His arm is broken." said he in a depressing tone.

"And his family?" Dragonet shook his head. The Roman's wife came running, hastily taking her cloak off to put it around the girl like a daughter.

"She's a Woad." Lancelot heard from Tristan as he examined her closer. _Ha, a Woad. _

"I'm Roman officer .You're safe now." Arthur said to her as she took the water more gently this time. "You're safe."

"Stop what you are doing!" Marius exclaimed coming out of the crowd. Arthur looked up at him and power surged into his eyes. He got up gritting his teeth.

"What is this madness?" he asked malignantly.

"They are all pagans here!" Marius answered desperately.

"So are we." Galahad responded with disgust in his mouth.

"They refused to do the task God has set for them!" Marius screamed, "They must die as an example!"

"You mean they refused to be your serfs!" Arthur threw at him furiously. The Roman just blinked at him.

"You are a Roman, you understand. And you are a Christian." He said to Arthur who did nothing to respond except to glare at him. So Marius turned to his wife.

"You!" he spat, "you kept her alive." and he slapped her. In response to her squeal, Arthur swung a punch at him and he fell to the ground. By the time the Roman realized what was happening, Excalibur was placed at the tip of his throat.

"My lord!" a soldier cried out.

"No! No, stop." His noble said when they came forth. He looked back at Arthur.

"When we get to the wall, you will be punished for this heresy." He threatened.

Arthur clenched his jaw and grabbed the man by his clothes. "Perhaps I should kill you now and seal my fate." The Roman's lips dried, knowing that the knight wasn't bluffing.

"I was willing to die with them," a man cried, "Yes, to lead them to their rightful place." It was the clergy, grinning to expose battered teeth. "It is God's wish that these sinners be sacrificed. Only then can their souls be saved."

Arthur rose slowly, not taking his eyes off the man. His face was severe as he said, "Then I shall grant his wish." with that he turned to his knights.

"Wall them back up."

"Arthur," Tristan said, trying to convince his leader.

"I said wall them up!" he voice thundering now.

"Don't you see it is the will of God that these sinners be sacrificed?" the clergy appealed. Just as he finished his last word the villagers grabbed him and led him inside the oubliette.

"Unhand me, defil... They're sinners!"

"Get in there!" the village men said, shoving him harder.

Lancelot rolled his eyes, his patience running thin. He walked back to Arthur, watching as they beat the man into the dungeon.

As he stepped, suddenly, a hand clasped his leg. Lancelot looked down to find the Woad girl, crawled onto her side opening and closing her mouth.

"Trying to speak, eh?" he said to her as he bent closer. The girl's black eyes blinked furiously trying to get used to the light. Her mouth she had open as if the words were about to stumble out and scatter. He held her chin, lifting her face.

"Twins…" she managed. His eyebrows stitched; twins? "...Ian…ethe…" she gasped and held her throat, eyes wide. Lancelot merely looked at her like she was mad. A second later it dawned on him. _There were more people inside_.

"Arthur!" he called, "Arthur!" he stood up, and everyone's attention fell on him.

"There are more people inside!" the knights came to him curious. Arthur went to the Woad's side and listened as she repeated herself. He quickly turned to Marius.

"Are there more?" he asked. Lancelot looked to the Roman's wife; he saw the truth wanting to burst out.

"Are here more?" he asked her gently. Afraid, she but her lip and nodded. Marius came to slap her once but he hand was caught by the knight questioning her.

"Lead us there, m'lady." Arthur said. Lancelot smirked at Marius as his wife stalked toward the entrance. He threw the man to the grass before heading there himself.

Once he was inside again, the stench surrounded him. He walked behind Arthur who followed the Roman's wife. The lady walked all the way to the end of the dungeon and pulled something on the wall. First Lancelot thought it was part of the bricks, but then saw the small dirty wooden door. She pulled at the handle but felt it was locked.

"Sometimes it is locked. The clergymen have the key hidden." She informed.

Lancelot did not wait Arthur's order to open the door. With a great heave of his sword the shackle of a lock clicked open as it broke. The door swung open, a poof of dust coming from the corners. He glanced at Arthur and the lady before slamming the door to the floor with a kick.

After all the debris settled, he saw a murky tunnel and entered. The pathway was barely three feet wide and five feet high which left him and the other crouching into the inner domain. Mice littered the ground and scurried away as he paced further in. the walls were of slime and mold— he dare not touch them. He felt Arthur behind his as his eye adjusted to the darkness. Taking the torch from Arthur, he shoved it forward to see what worse can come facing him. His eye widened to their extent even more, his mind trying to negotiate what was real and what was not.

The end of the tunnel spilled out a compact room. There were three walls, one ahead and one on each side. To his right and left was a chained up Woad, in the shape of a crucifix and two on the wall ahead of him. Their bodies were gratified with scars from leather whips and cheeks stained with blood and tears. His eyes fell to the girl nearest him, the one that looked the worst. She had black hair, her face was dried up and eyes closed. It took a moment to realize she wasn't dead; the gentle movement of her chest was so weak. He watched her breathe like she was trying to stay alive.

"My god," Lancelot heard Arthur say, snapping out of his reverie. He walked up to the girl with black hair and snipped her chains off one by one. The other knights went along with him, releasing the Woads from their form. Lancelot caught the girl as she fell limply into his arms, lips parted. Without another word, he stalked out of the inner room and out into the clear air. Gawain, Arthur and Galahad came after him and the villagers gasped.

Lancelot looked around sorely and grabbed the container of water and sprayed it on the girl's face. Nothing. She did nothing. _Please, let her be alive_.

The drums were stronger now; they couldn't stay a moment longer here. The wagons were also ready he observed, all the villagers stood aghast by their gear.

An elderly man and woman with long gray hair attentively appeared in front of him and Arthur.

"My Lord, I am Tovar. Our caravan is only to hold my wife while I ride. Let us host these women. Stella will be glad to nurse them." He offered in an aged voice. The woman by his side laid a hand on her husband's shoulder affectionately. They both stared at Arthur with sincerity.

"Thank you. Your service is most helpful." Arthur replied hoarsely, motioning the men to follow the couple. Tovar nodded and led the way to his wagon. One by one, the women were laid and covered in cloaks to shield them from the warmth. The first Woad girl was already there, laying still but her eyes followed the knights with each girl. Lancelot looked at her as she gave him the slightest of nods. He lay the raven locked girl beside her.

Gawain gave Lancelot a dark look; he knew what he was thinking. They showed an understanding. The Romans had used the name of their god to torture these Woads because of their culture. Was this not the contradictory of faith? Was this not heresy on its own?

And so they rode, wagons followed after each other, most of the villagers walked with their children huddled close. They did not worry though for the knights guarded them. The famous knights from Hadrian's Wall; Arthur's knights, Lancelot heard them say. The men were riding at the end and middle to oversee anything activity.

Lancelot's fury was not even calmed by the heavy winter snow or the frosty wind. They were going too slow, at this rate, they were bound to meet the Saxons. He threw a glance at Arthur ahead of him; _he lives and fights for a world that ceases to exist after his imagination. _Yet there still were images of the raven haired girl. The images haunted him so, her shaken face on his waking eyes. Never had so much treason been forced before in the name of god.


	3. Chapter III Good Riddance

Disclaimer: All my writing, plot owned by moviemakers...

Hello! I am so sorry about the delaly. My computer had beenscrewing with me lately, actually as always.ButI have toadmit that I was lazy. Hehehe. And the question about how to pronouced Ianethe's name it goes like this: EYE-n-Ethe...Anyway, here it is. hope you enjoy.

Chapter III-

_Good Riddance_

Murmurs, soft and far away they sounded. Ianethe thought she must be hallucinating. They came and went like lightening. It was as though they were whispering in her ear. She closed her eyes and swallowed with much difficulty through her parched throat.

And then she heard them again. This time they were loader, voices of anger more like it. Who was there? Had they come for them, to finish them off? A short puff of air escaped her lungs; she'd die in the name of her people and father. Alone and cold and then suddenly felt it was good riddance.

Ianethe thought she dreamed. There were noises in the dark, not familiar at all. Her senses, like the air in her lungs flew suddenly. Confusion hit her first. She was dead. Then why did she feel pain? That's a sign of life, she thought. No, she wasn't dead. Her eyes were caught with wisps of light. Her body jerked as her bed did.

Eyes closed, she breathed slowly, getting used to the fresh air. A sharp pain in her chest issued; a few broken ribs she thought, no problem. She tried to figure out where she was since her awareness came back to her. She wasn't at the oubliette anymore, of this she was certain. Ianethe lay still, her surroundings were moving like it was tied to a horse. Thoughts of most horrible circumstances swam in her head. Sold as a slave? Taken to a house of torture? She decided that it would be best if she saw what was going on. Little by little her lids unfolded. The rays of light took her by force, making her gasp in silence. When she was adjusted to the light, she actually saw for the first time.

It was a rebirth to her as she took in everything in a childlike way. She was riding in a wagon, moving slowly in the winter air although she could not tell underneath her warm blanket. She saw outside the crack of the wood snow falling onto the ground. Her eyes looked greedily all around when she realized who she was sitting next to.

To her left sat Guinevere. Lady Guinevere. She was wrapped in an identical blanket, eyes glued to the peeks of the outdoors hat the wooden sticks gave. Her face was pale and dry but she looked quite…alive.

"Guinev..." Ianethe managed, not sure she would hear for it was the lowest of whispers. But her lady's head snapped to her side looking at Ianethe with careful eyes.

"Ianethe!" she replied. Guinevere's hands cupped her face. Ianethe's eyes burned as she watched her lady's tears fall. Soon water droplets rolled down her cheek as they cried in silence, holding one another. They were both building up the energy to talk. For Ianethe, it was hard even to breathe with her ribs broken. In short gasps she controlled herself.

"You are alive!" Guinevere said, locking their foreheads.

"And you," Ianethe was just happy that she was well. Her heart flooded with thoughts. She had let Guinevere down…

"We were beginning to think that you would never wake." Guinevere told her. Ianethe raised her head.

"We?" Guinevere nodded.

"Then…" she took a deep and wary breath, "Scio as well?" she asked eagerly. Before the other woman could answer, Ianethe jumped to two more names, "And Blair? Young Airica?"

"Guinevere just smiled at her had pointed straight to her far right. Ianethe's eyes traveled forward and found three most precious younglings. How could she have missed them? Each girl was beneath layers and layers of cloaks like herself. In that instant, the tears began to roll steadily down her cheek. She never thought she'd live to see the day.

In the middle slept her twin sister Scio, her long amber hair spilling out. She was next to Blair who slept with a smile on her face and then Airica, the youngest. She was the baby of the group being only in her teens but nonetheless fierce. They all looked so peaceful in their slumber.

"They all woke hours ago." Guinevere informed, "I had to order them to catch their sleep when they saw you had not waken. Scio was most persistent." Ianethe said nothing, still looking at the three. It wasn't until Guinevere put a hand on her shoulder when she was distracted from her sisters. She clasped her hand and examined it. Her fingers were oddly bent. They had been broken but seemed like they were pushed back together. Ianethe poked lightly at her joints.

"Who?" she asked, knowing Guinevere had not done this for she had not the strength to do it.

"Arthur." Was all she received.

"Arthur?" Ianethe turned her full attention to her lady's face.

"Artorius from the Wall."

Riding with the Romans! So they were sold to slavery.

"We are not in grave danger as might suspect." Ianethe looked away. She didn't want to believe it. But she knew, she had heard of Artorius, different whispers than the others.

"We are free?" she asked slowly. Guinevere nodded, turning back to her window. Free as a bird she thought, like before when they weren't captured. Guinevere could remember that day like she had just walked away from it.

It was a regular day; she had woken up and had the urge to go hunting. As she was preparing news had reached her. One of her own was captured by the residential Romans. She sent her warrior, Ianethe, to battle this deed of dishonor. Ianethe was more than willing to go. Hours crept by and finally after two days there was no word. Guinevere still felt the burn of worry as she sent her twin to find her sister. Surely Ianethe was set back by lack of enforcement. Scio would not tolerate this. She was assured that the job would be done.

But the bearer of bad news was time. A couple of days passed since Scio had left. That was enough. Guinevere had gathered Airica and Blair with her father's blessing and went off to find the three. But the Romans were prepared, they already and Ianethe and Scio. The three warriors crumbled at the sight of the other two and the Romans had attacked them from behind. And so they were all imprisoned.

"I am sorry," Ianethe croaked out of the silence, "I am sorry I failed you my lady." The long words had hurt her lungs.

It was long ago, a month, maybe two months. Guinevere didn't want to reopen any wounds. There wasn't any time. She turned back to Ianethe.

"Faithful Ianethe, you are many things. A failure is not one of them." She said with a smile and cooed on, "Rest now, I will tell you all when you are awake and healthy. You will need strength for healing."

Ianethe could not argue with her for she could barely keep her eyes open any longer. She would need her sleep to heal herself. Once again her lids fell like boulders. Thoughts surfaced in her mind but she pushed them aside. One that stood up was when she and Scio would go swimming in the lake. Fast and long laps. That is how she felt, carefree. No other worry conquered her now. What would happen next would have to wait until she was herself again.

Thank you wondeful people who reviewed. It makes me strive for faster chapters. I am debating if there should be any lemon in this. I think it would add some paa-zazz, what do you think? Theres also a thing going around about if the characters are going to die or not; revealing that would ruin the plot!

So don't forget to review, its that sexy button on the left!


	4. Chapter VI Lady Noir

**Author's Note I: Hello! Another update so soon! Hehe…I had this one planned. You get to see a lot more of where Ianethe has come from and who she is. I also made a mistake of pronouncing her name… (silly me) it's EYE-an-ethe— 'AN' like _an_ ant, I forgot to put that in. Anyway, I've starting mapping out the story and the coupling has begun!**

**Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: Can't say I own this, but a gal can dream…**

_Chapter VI- Eyes of Lady Noir_

Minutes later or so it seems, Ianethe jerked awake. At once the entire world was open to her once again swirling about. Her ears filled with sound, it almost burst her drums. For a second she was floating above herself, for that it how she felt, and stretched into the real world. She felt much recovered from her last awakening and sighed.

A sudden movement caught her to be still. There it was again, a prodding of some sort. It was a person. In a flash she was up holding the prodder by the neck before she opened her eyes. Ianethe saw it was an elderly woman whose eyes were wide from the lack of air. Ianethe quickly let.

"It is an impulse, I am sorry." She explained, flexing her fingers as her memory was gradually coming back. All of the images flew on her eyes. The dungeons. Guinevere. Pulled into safety by the Knights of the Wall.

Ianethe's eyes reached the aged woman and smiled. The lady looked down at her with still shock not of fear but of amazement. She massaged her neck lightly before speaking.

"My child, quite understandable." With a breath she added, "I am Stella, your hostess."

At this Ianethe's eyes widened. A Roman had come to host Woads? What had the world come to? She stared at her; was this an illusion just as Merlin had taught her? It didn't seem so; Stella looked at her earnestly a smile creeping on her lips. She knew she was being examined.

"Ianethe, my name is Ianethe." The wagon was light enough to see that Stella had flashed her a big smile. She pulled a flask from somewhere and handed it to her.

"Drink this. It'll give you more strength." Not in a position to argue, the Woad took it. A gulp later she coughed up all of it. Stella laughed, holding the flask and giving her a handkerchief.

"Easy child, small sips will do." She said to her while Ianethe gave her a look. She raised the flask again and took a sip. The hot liquid was thick and poured down her throat slowly. It warmed her instantly and looked up at the woman who patted her back. Ianethe took a few more helpings before she felt like a normal body again.

"Come; let me see if you're fit to walk." She said coming forward to her. Ianethe backed up.

"Shouldn't I be able to judge that?" she asked securely.

Stella shook her head and came forward anyway. She first pressed on the side of her throat, then moving down to her chest where she listened to her heartbeat. She asked Ianethe to lie down as she nudged her arms and massaged her forearm and her legs to get the blood flow working. Ianethe through all of this was smiling. She was being examined, how odd it seemed to her. With her people she was the physician, prodding and poking to see how things functioned. She was the one serving the peppermint serum to the sick. Lastly, she poked her stomach and ribs. At this she frowned and poked harder until Ianethe groan in slight pain. Stella' eyebrows were stitched as she pushed the side of her stomach.

"Yes, they were broken." Ianethe finally said, getting up. The elder looked at her again with the same frown.

"Last time…they were broken. Were?" she remarked confusedly. Ianethe put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes."

"That was two days ago!" Stella exclaimed, "I thought they were healing and that's how you were breathing so well. But they're healed already!"

Ianethe put her hands up, "Sleep is the best remedy for everything." It was a lie, a white lie, she told herself. No need to frighten the old. Stella was still wondering because she frowned harder. And then a look came about her eyes.

"I have heard of such thing amongst us." She said quietly. Ianethe sighed and folded her legs.

"Lady Noir." Stella said in amazement. Ianethe looked up at her with distant eyes.

"I am no heresy to you. The traditions of our people are strong in our blood. It is not this dark craft you think of." She said coldly looking away.

Stella put a hand on her chest, trying to calm her heart. This Woad was the witch doctor she heard from the soldiers, they called her Lady Noir, or Dark Lady. Her mother had once told her of a magic woman who held the power of a necropolis in her hand. This role within the Woads was passed down through not text but blood. An inherited curse they called it. They were rumored to be immortal. Stella looked at the girl in front of her. A girl indeed, not more than twenty summers. She had an innocence behind her tough face which Stella saw now as she had exposed her bear. Her eyes were the color of a cosmic green forest with a sheen layer of mist. She sat hunched over; looking outside from the peephole donned in rags yet exhumed control and poise.

"I am sorry. These are the words from long ago. They are a vile reference." Stella said to her. Ianethe glanced from her revere, her face grim. She understood. How else would these people receive her if not evil?

"I accept. There are no terms that would translate right." Ianethe replied, rubbing her arms. Stella swung a heavy cloak around her shoulders and clasped it. Without a word, she opened the curtain that held them from the outside just enough so the cold didn't rush in. She slid out and turned to help Ianethe who could see that Stella was sinking everything in. in the middle of her actions, the elder stopped and looked at Ianethe.

"Are you, then, immortal?" she asked. Ianethe was struck by her frankness but refrained from wincing.

"Immortality is a gift from the gods. As you see, I have been less than graced." She replied. If it had not been a satisfactory answer to Stella, she didn't know. The aged woman then beamed at her and left the wagon for her to handle herself. Just the way Ianethe liked it.

Ianethe went after her, climbing out of the wagon slowly and carefully. She did not want to fall and break things that were just starting to heal. When her head peeked out of the curtain, it felt like her life was in the air that she would simply breathe in. The fresh air felt so good that it almost hurt her lungs at first.

"M' lady?" asked the elder woman. Ianethe's attention went back to her, embarrassed. The scenery had taken her aback. It was dark, nearing the late night and snow was still falling frailly. The forest bordered their camp making large and comforting shadows.

Stella gestured towards a wagon a few yards away when her feet touched the snowy ground and she followed after her, eager to meet her friends. The camp was large, many people were walking around, and children were running about a thin anxiety hanging in the air. Ianethe was keen to hear Guinevere tell her their state of affairs for she was confused; why would knights (led by a Roman) help them, Woads?

As she crossed the threshold behind Stella, the people stopped in their tracks and stared at her from afar, gawking. She smirked, were they really surprised to see her alive and walking? But then again they didn't know who she was…

"Lancelot!" a men cried out from her right and before she could turn to find the voice, another man brushed past her to join the circle of men. For a second, he turned to her and rumbled an apology and walked on. Ianethe scowled, how rude.

"The ladies have been most fretful upon seeing you." Stella said, snapping her out of her wondering. At this she smirked, thinking of the girls. It was unquestionably a trait of the other four.

"They will see me soon enough." She replied, stopping when the aged woman did. Stella halted in front of the tent flap and gave her a smile before lifting it for her entrance.

**Author's Note II: I don't know if this is a short on but the next will be longer. How about a preview? I'll be a nice author: **

_**"By now, everyone was sleeping in their own settlements. The darkness had gripped the area, but she welcomed it, how long was it since she'd seen the beauty of the night instead of the obscurity of the dungeons? Few people treaded the path ahead of her window, for it led to the forest after the clearing. **_

_**Then suddenly, a figure came into her view; a man wrapped in his cloak strolling a couple of feet in front of her (Ianethe clutched her legs tighter against her naked chest instinctively) …" **_

**Am I evil! Mwuahaha J keep reading, you'll find out! And also, KEEP REVIEWING! (me pleading please?)**


	5. Chapter V Treason

**Author's Note: I know you guys are throwing things at me. I'm sorry, the finale of the summer kept me busy! So here's the next chapter. I hope you like it b/c it gets interesting from here forth. Enjoy! **

**Chapter V- Treason to his own people? **

Ianethe went after her, climbing out of the wagon slowly and carefully. She did not want to fall and break things that were just starting to heal. When her head peeked out of the curtain, it felt like her life was in the air that she would simply breathe in. The fresh air felt so good that it almost hurt her lungs at first.

"M' lady?" asked the elder woman. Ianethe's attention went back to her, embarrassed. The scenery had taken her aback. It was dark, nearing the late night and snow was still falling frailly. The forest bordered their camp making large and comforting shadows.

Stella gestured towards a wagon a few yards away when her feet touched the snowy ground and she followed after her, eager to meet her friends. The camp was large, many people were walking around, and children were running about a thin anxiety hanging in the air. Ianethe was keen to hear Guinevere tell her their state of affairs for she was confused; why would knights (led by a Roman) help them, Woads?

As she crossed the threshold behind Stella, the people stopped in their tracks and stared at her from afar, gawking. She smirked, were they really surprised to see her alive and walking? But then again they didn't know who she was…

"Lancelot!" a men cried out from her right and before she could turn to find the voice, another man brushed past her to join the circle of men. For a second, he turned to her and rumbled a sorry and walked on. Ianethe scowled, how rude.

"The ladies have been most fretful upon seeing you." Stella said, snapping her, once again, out of her wondering. At this she smirked, thinking of the girls. It was unquestionably a trait of the other four.

"They will see me soon enough." She replied, stopping when the aged woman did. Stella halted in front of the wagon flap and gave her a smile before lifting it for her entrance.

Before Ianethe saw what was inside the wagon, many squeals hit her ears with a blast. An involuntary jovial expression crossed her face.

"Ianethe!" Scio shouted along with the other three girls. Ianethe took in every one of them selfishly all over again.

Guinevere was unclothed, sitting in a metal bathing bowl full of water, legs drawn up to her face. There was a blissful look on her. Her black hair was dry and braided clean, glossy as before. Next to her was Airica who was also sitting in a bath exposing her bare skin; she too looked buoyant. Her face was pristine, the milk white skin showing once more. She had barely any scars left on her body except for one large mark on her chest. Blair sat crossed legged next to her draped in a drying cloth that covered her body. Her amber hair was braided also, skin luminous, and her crimson lips curved in a smile. Finally, Ianethe's eyes landed on her twin sister.

Scio was sitting adjacent to Blair, swathed in a sizeable cloth that had wet patches on it. Her legs were bared from underneath the piece of material, fair skin showing that she had little scars on her. Her tawny curls pushed back with two little braids that met in the back of her head. She appeared spotless with a slight flush in her cheeks. All of them shared a delighted look when she stepped in.

Ianethe was smiling, hoping that tears would not flow out of her eyes so soon. She didn't want to seem weak. Blair and Scio stood and walked over to her slowly afraid that she'd vanish. Ianethe let her tears fall when the paused in front of her, she was so glad that they were okay!

"Ianethe..." Blair croaked, her own tears streaking her cheeks. She grabbed her and enveloped her into a warm hug that she thought she'd never receive again. Ianethe relished the feeling of her friend's well being. When she let go, Scio stood before her. She laid a hand on her cheek before embracing her tight. Ianethe muffled out her cry as did her sister. Both of them said nothing because there were no words left between them.

Just after they ended their hug, Stella entered behind her, "I have a bath ready for you!" she said excitedly leading her to a bathing basin. Ianethe's hands shook as she shed her rags. Scio came to help her, this time her cheeks were wiped of tears. She smiled at her sister lovingly. Stella lowered her into the basin, she hissed when the steaming water licked her skin. When she picked up a sponge, Blair gripped her arm.

"May we...?" she asked the senior woman. Stella nodded wisely, letting her have the sponge.

"I will leave these here for you and fetch some clothes." She said prior to exiting the area. As soon as she left, all heads turned to Ianethe who shivered in pleasure in the boiling water. Scio and Blair sat on both her sides while Guinevere and Airica finished their bathes.

"I'm so pleased to see you, fair Ianethe." Blair said to her, picking up the sponge and began remove the muck from her skin. Ianethe turned to her and smiled, "Not as much as I, Blair, not as much as I am pleased to seeing you, all of you! Alive! You are all well?" she couldn't help but exclaiming a bit.

"We've bathed; I think that keeps us all well! Besides, we thought you would never wake up." Spoke Airica as she lifted her body from the water and grabbing a blanket to dry her.

"She never disappoints." Guinevere said, following after her. They all chuckled softly. Ianethe eyes traveled to her sister who remained silent next to her. She hand found her chin and lifted her head, Scio's eyes shimmering.

"No more tears, it's not like you." She alleged. It was true; Scio was the tough one between them.

"How can you say not to cry? I thought you had died!" she said. At this she glowered at her sibling and made Ianethe snort.

"Are you angry that I am alive then?" Scio frowned, turning her head away.

"Don't joke…" she said gently. Ianethe glanced at the others who gave her a supporting urge.

"Casssciopa, are you not happy to see me?" she innocently asked her, Scio looked at her sharply at her full name, and nodded. "Forsake what troubles you; it will not haunt you any longer." Her sister blinked at her before softening her expression, giving in.

"Come! Let's not cry when we're together now." Guinevere piped. Scio nodded at her lady's command and turned to Ianethe with a bright smile.

"That's better." She said to her. Scio picked up another sponge and joined Blair, scrubbing the dirt off her sister's body. It was tedious work, for Ianethe had been imprisoned the longest. As far as Scio could remember, it was more than six months ago. She had spent that time worrying if her twin had been dead. No, she would think, if Ianethe was dead, surely she would die that instant too. Then after a month after she disappeared, she was sent to get her back without success. All Scio wanted to do now was to be next to her, for Ianethe was all she had left of family. She couldn't imagine life without her sister!

After several attempts, they managed to get Ianethe sparkling clean. Her skin was now radiating the color it was and her face looked as if it had not been untainted with at all. Ianethe enjoyed the hot water that was being poured over her body, relishing the feeling of being unsoiled.

The four ladies sat in a half circle in front of her, conversation issued with laughter and giggles. Ianethe breathed in slowly, loving this. She was with her family again, living and well. She remained quiet, and the others did not fret about it, Ianethe just wanted to listen to them. She drew her legs to her chest, hiding her womanly features and looked outside from the little window that the wagon had. The warmth of the interior contrasted with the cool breeze that stealthily came in. By now, everyone was sleeping in their own settlements. The darkness had gripped the area, but she welcomed it, how long was it since she'd seen the beauty of the night instead of the obscurity of the dungeons? Few people treaded the path ahead of her window, for it led to the forest after the clearing.

Then suddenly, a figure came into her view; a man wrapped in his cloak strolling a couple of feet in front of her (Ianethe clutched her legs tighter against her chest instinctively). He had a frustrated look on his face as he breathed out, white smoke emitted from him in the cold. If he had turned a little more, he would see her bare. Ianethe scrutinized him out of curiosity; he seemed familiar. Ianethe's eyes widen for an instant before she remembered, he was that rude man that had bumped into her. And then he turned her way, both of them getting a full view of each other.

He had curly hair with a sly goatee around his mouth and a well-defined jaw. Small flakes of snow clung to his head as he turned to her. He gave her the slightest smirk while his own eyes wondered on her. She didn't do anything, for her gaze was prying on his image at the same time. He raised his eyebrow cockily, this time his smirk bigger. Ianethe rolled her eyes when something glinted from the fire a couple of feet from him. She noticed a sword in its sheath and realized she was come across one of Arthur's knights. He was patrolling! For what, she thought.

"Guinevere, I think it's time to explain about our situation." She said to her raven haired friend. Guinevere's attention was followed by all of them.

"You don't know?" Airica inquired innocently. She shook her head.

"Arthur was sent to take the Roman's son to safety." Scio told her, watching Blair comb Ianethe's hair, vigorously taking out the tangles.

"Ouch! Blair!" she cried, holding her hair.

Blair chortled, "Be still then!"

"Anyway, when he arrived, he decided the whole village was going to be taken back to the Wall." Scio continued.

"That's where he found us and the boy." Guinevere said, joining in.

"The boy?" Ianethe asked, "What boy?" they all pointed to the far bundle out the window that blended into the background well enough that she didn't notice the little boy that slept peacefully. He was tucked in layers of furs and blankets to keep him warm; and a burly looking man sitting by him. His blond tresses fell onto his face as he breathed with his mouth slightly open.

"Jasper was the only other survivor from there, aside from us." Ianethe lowered her head, "No one else?" she asked, knowing the terrible answer. They all shook their heads in silence.

"Why would there be need to take the Roman's son to the Wall? They own the land!" Ianethe did not know what was going on but she knew that the reason for Romans to come north of the Wall was a dire cause. A part of her didn't want to hear the reason, for it would involve her people's concern as well.

Then she saw the girls look at each other.

"The Saxons are moving towards these lands." Airica reported, breaking the pregnant silence.

Ianethe sighed, "The Saxons…only kill to gain."

Silence.

"That's why Arthur will not leave these people behind." Guinevere said, shifting in her position.

"Arthur is treason to his own people!" Scio barked, waving her hand impatiently.

"But you can't blame him. I wouldn't leave defenseless people to fend for themselves against a vicious army." Blair commented frankly.

"How can you say that? They're our enemies!" Airica growled.

"I say that because it was the humble thing to do!" Blair countered. She finished de-tangling Ianethe's hair and dropped the comb glowering at her. The twins shook their heads; those two were always fighting even from childhood.

"They have hunted us, Woads, whom we lead!" Airica cried, and then received a hushing from Guinevere.

"Young Airica, Jasper sleeps; and be mute about that!" That caught the attention of all the women who turned to their lady.

"What are you saying, my lady?" Scio asked, not believing her ears.

"These people do not know who we are?" Blair questioned. Guinevere shook her head no. She knew that they would be surprised.

"And Arthur? What of him?" Ianethe piped, keeping her cool. Guinevere expected Ianethe to be the one to be calm.

"Arthur, I believe picked up the hints." Airica was annoyed.

"They don't notice our emblem tattoos?" she asked, indicating to her left arm. There, in black ink was a blossoming rose as big as her whole hand. It was complete with a set of thorns and a tint of red along the edges of each petal. They all had one identical to each other; it was the symbol of their level in the tribe.

Ianethe frowned, she was not happy about this. The Britons did not know that her lady was the daughter of the learned and great Merlin? Did they know that Blair and Airica were masters of hand to hand combat, the best of the Woads? They did not know that Scio was the best archer of them; and that she, Ianethe, was trained under Merlin himself? And most of all, did they know that they had saved the five legion commanders of the Woads from death?

**Review please! Flames are accepted! I love those of you who review, its great feedback; tell me what you think. Until next time **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Okay, so it's been months, I'm sorry! To those who have been waiting your patience is incomparable. To those who WILL review, you're wonderful too. Seriously, I hope you find this story good—any flames or suggestions just feel free to leave a comment. **

**Viva le Roi Arthur! **

**Disclaimer: Can't say I own this, but a gal can dream…**

**Chapter VI- Stunning All Over Again**

There was an uncommon stillness in the air in the wagon. The five Woad women sat in silence, thinking about what would happen next.

"So let me summarize this," Ianethe said, "Arthur and his knights came here to save the Roman's son and bring him back to Hadrian's Wall. He then decides to tamper with his luck, sets out with all the villagers and in doing so, he rescues five Woad commanders whom he does not recognize. All of this and a brutal Saxon militia behind him."

Scio smirked; leave it to Ianethe to put humor in horror.

"Well, yes if you put it so eloquently!" said Guinevere.

"What will happen to us? We'll need to defend our land." Blair was concerned about her people as well.

"If only we had some contact with Merlin…" Airica said.

"Yes, Father would have given good advice to us." Guinevere sighed.

Just then, a lady came through the wagon flap clutching hands. She had long black hair and incredible cheekbones with a rather nervous expression.

"I am Riona." She said to them, bowing her head slightly.

"The Roman's wife, are you not?" Scio asked, watching the lady nod her head. It was with deep regret that she seemed to do so.

She walked up to them, "I offered Stella to clothe you." Ianethe blinked, she was being nice to them. Guinevere stood and put a hand on her shoulder, "I know who you are. The woman who came with a pitcher at night; you gave me water." The lady nodded once more, this time more confidently. Riona's shoulders drooped as she said this.

"I thank you." She said to the woman who lowered her head.

"I know that you will not forget what was done to you," Riona said, "But I offer my aid in repent." All the ladies now stood except for Ianethe, they waited for Guinevere to speak.

"You should not ask forgiveness for what you have not done." Riona lifted her gaze to Guinevere and bowed again. She smiled at them, shining.

"I have garments for each of you…" it was a simple sentence but it brought an invisible joy into each of their faces.

"If you are able to walk, my wagon will offer a fitting." Riona offered. Ianethe saw that they were willing to walk a mile for proper clothes.

They all turned to her, "Shall we wait for you?" Scio asked.

Ianethe shook her head, "No, I think I will soak for a little while longer. But go on! I will be fine here."

"Are you sure?" Airica asked with a hand on Ianethe's.

"Go!" She urged before Riona led them out. Ianethe exhaled heavily, eyes closed. This felt very good. She sat like that for several minutes in tranquility. Without thinking she turned back to look out the window again. Ianethe watched the knight sitting at the base of a tree, his profile exposed to her. He was sharpening a dagger with a stone, not looking her way at all.

Cautious, she carefully stretched in the basin, some of her knuckles cracking. She then stood up; droplets of water cascaded down her body and stepped out of the bath. Ianethe dried herself with a cloth and examined her body. Scars flawed her skin, but it wasn't like she didn't have in before she was captured. No, Ianethe had many blemishes of her training years that showed her skill. But these were new and raw; they marked her body mercilessly. As she traced one along her arm, images of getting whipped crossed her mind. She muffled a cry and let her hand fall. The memories weren't very pleasant. She stood there for a long time, stretching more and more until her muscles moved from their fixed places. It caused her pain yet felt so liberating at the same time. She watched the boy, Jasper, sleep peacefully and thought of what they were going to do.

After some time, when Ianethe stood wrapped in the robe braiding small tresses, Scio entered the wagon with a small bundle in her arms. She was wearing a light green dress that fitted her figure very agreeably, it had a black strap around her waist that held the material up and the fluttering sleeves reached her elbow. Her hair was brushed and pushed back once more. Ianethe grinned; this was revealing the real and beautiful Scio.

"Sister, I have your dress. I had it fitted to my size so it will match you perfectly." She said excitedly, holding up the dress. It was the same as Scio's but the color was midnight black with silver borders and the strap also chrome.

"Riona is so kind to us!" Ianethe said, touching the fabric. It was soft like cotton and reminded her of home.

"Come on, let's garb you." Said Scio, thrilled. She grinned even more and let Scio dress her.

It was not her to be vain, but she looked quite handsome when Scio was done with her. The black dress made her skin look pale and took attention away from the scars that were visible. Her sister had braided two tresses and tied them in the back so it held the rest of her mane together; her lips were becoming burgundy colored and she was beginning to get used to the pain in her lungs.

"There, that's much better!" Scio said to her, holding her by her shoulders. She was pleased to see that her sister wasn't crippled by the Romans. Ianethe embraced Scio once more into a tight hug.

"I would have done anything to see you again, even if it meant my death." Scio remarked.

Ianethe let go and lifted her chin, "Now what would Ianethe be without her Scio?" at this, her twin giggled, remembering the old saying her father told them whenever he found them arguing.

"A silly girl bickering with herself." She answered and they both tittered whole heartedly.

Just as Ianethe was done tying her hair, in came Blair and Airica. They both had on the same style garb but in different colors; Airica wore a shady green dress with her hair loose, and Blair had on a deep color of purple. Both ladies looked quite themselves, which meant that they were stunning all over again.

"Ianethe, Scio! Hurry up, Riona has food for us too!" Airica said excitedly.

"Yeah, I could smell the bread from here!" Blair said, sharing the same tone.

At once her stomach growled loudly along with Scio's. She had not given hunger a thought since she left…there. Now that she did, she was absolutely famished. She looked at Scio who had appeared to have an appetite that would satisfy a bull and grinned widely at the two arrivals.

"One of the best news I've heard all day." Ianethe breathed, putting a hand on her stomach to still it. With a few more finishing touches on her hair, she was ready.

"Where is Lady Guinevere?" Scio asked as they trotted down the pathway.

"Don't let her catch you saying that, she might give you her lecture again." Blair whispered to her, making her smirk.

"I have not seen her since we left Riona's caravan. She just grabbed a cloak and set off." Airica said, clutching her own closer, "And you, Ianethe?"

But Ianethe wasn't tuning in any word. She was arrested by the freedom her legs were having; the joy of walking, of using her muscles when she needed them was bliss. She would have asked for no more than this. It felt so lovely to be on her two feet, not vulnerable. She actually _felt _the snow landing on her skin, _felt_ the winter frost, _felt_ the ground beneath her.

"Hmm?" she asked as they all stopped and glared at her. She caught their stare and started laughing; all of them had their hands on their hips, intently looking at her.

"Have you seen Guinevere walk by?" Airica asked, hiding a smile. She shook her head, hands crossed on her chest.

"Where could she be? Do you think she found her father?" Blair asked.

"No, it's far too early in the night for Merlin to come out, they would attack." Scio observed, putting a finger on her chin. Just then, something grasped Ianethe's eye directly behind Scio. She pointed and they turned to see Guinevere speaking to one of the knights. Ianethe recognized the man that stood outside her window while she was bathing.

"Ah…" one of them said. She shook her head again and pulled all the ladies away to the food wagon.

"Let's leave her; she'll come on her own time." Ianethe said to them. They all nodded in agreement as they started walking again, she ahead of them.

"How does she know where she is going?" Blair asked Scio who sniggered instantly.

"Ianethe has a nose of a dog when it comes to food!" she responded but ducked a moment later, Ianethe had thrown a small snow ball at her.

"I heard that, Cassciopa!"

**---------------------------------------------------**

**Thanks for reading! I'll update soon…the pairings will appear, not to worry. And no, I'm not killing off any of the knights!! Any comments? Questions? Leave a review or visit my website at and say hi! **


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